Tag Archives: passion



When it’s gray I still feel the sun,

Like a warmth that washes over me

Rays like golden fingers

Even when the day is done

Embraced in tender care

I’m reminded of the night

Piercing, almost, your rod of starburst light

Filtering thru windows shaded

Rolling thru a hazy vapor

Heating my flesh to heights

I never knew existed

Spent, like yesterday’s dollar,

Sweat pouring from my brow

The secrets of the Garden

Belong to me now


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I never knew the secret whispers of the wind

Or the reckless urge to kiss a stranger

I never knew the solace of simplicity

Or the gentle hold of a workingman’s arms

But I know these things in you;


I know truth and grace and need

I welcome the uncomfortable

Surge of unspoken requests from my

Passionate cravings; allow me

To drift into your embrace for one

Momentary lapse of sensibility


I shouldn’t speak of my desire

For your nectar, sweet on my lips,

Forbidden thoughts and like

Electric currents, they are

Intended to exploit a charge


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The Reader




Your poetry is not found on the page, within letters

strung together in words that rhyme, hoping for some

understated epiphany or hunting for resonance in the

echo of a student’s cephalic cavern.


Your poetry is in the simplicity

of your touch, in the lines of your



Yours is a poetry of the eyes speaking to my heart,

leaving me to wonder how it ever desired to beat before you



I am your reader, soaking up every nuance, absorbing

your language into my flesh, feeling my marrow

burn with desire for you. I should like to read you



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The Deepening


Sometimes the words fall, down steps, end over end, until they land in a place that I may not recognize but I feel right at home in.


The Deepening

Do you retreat to some golden beach

Where fair-haired girls frolic;

Or do you ride the blue waves,

Teasing a dark door of despair

With your gentle knuckles,

Clenched in need around the firm

Stem of desire, passion revealed

In wavering sashays of your golden

Hips; a self-imposed border,

A mime’s cry, only

To procure orchestral resonance

When you whisper my name


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A Little Thing Called Love




The language between you and I,

Utterances of supreme pleasure


Gifts offered, once declined but I,

With all my hesitance, now I give over to you


That which proffers the inevitable

That which ensures my trust is secure


I am a hopeless cause where causes

Are concerned; my body lies at the edge


Of love’s crevasse, awaiting the fall,

Your name is on my lips





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Yes, you can be my Vodka, as you surely ease my pain;

Your love provides the comfort from the pelting rain

I’ll share my loving lips, my thirst is quenched in you,

I’ll drink you full forever more, I find my soul in you

If my heart should ever ache, I’ll pour you full once more

You sate my thirst through and through, for it is you I adore




A presumption shared within a glance,

Pulse quickens,

The skin surrenders to gooseflesh

Passion, once hidden, stored behind sleeping eyes

Awakens to eager discovery

A taste of love flavors the air, even better

Between the sheets


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photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/leah8691/2127211960/”>~*Leah*~</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;